


She Will Not Be Silenced

by cowherderess



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 07:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14539938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowherderess/pseuds/cowherderess
Summary: In which Lucy and Wyatt are more careful-- because they should know Rittenhouse, by now-- and don't let Alice Paul die 58 years before her time.





	She Will Not Be Silenced

**Author's Note:**

> Alice Paul is one of my most favorite American historical figures (a problematic fave, yes, I know) and all week I have really been upset at how the show treated her. So... a fix-it fic.
> 
> Dedicated to the many badass Quaker women in my life.

“What on Earth happened between you two?”

A huffy silence filled the room, as neither Lucy nor Wyatt attempted to answer. Grace decided it was not worth pursuing, not when she had a case, and so she let her own question fall by the wayside. She turned to leave the precinct.

“We’ll go back to the hotel,” she announced, without looking back. “Someone there must have seen something. Come if you like, or not.”

No wonder this woman had accomplished all she had, even in 1919, Lucy thought, being possessed as she was of such strong-minded independence. Grace and Alice were really not so dissimilar, even though they might not like to hear it.

She glanced over at Wyatt. He had completely leapt to conclusions about last night, and his accusatory tone still rankled. She and Flynn really had just talked, and she had not been looking for anything more. She wouldn’t, but even if she had-- none of his damn business, indeed.

And then, what right did he have to pair them up on this mission, just because _he_ wanted to talk... Well, _she_ didn’t, and he was just going to have to get used to that. Then she realized something else. “I’ll go. You should stay here.”

His face immediately darkened. “Why?”

“Alice, of course,” she replied. She lowered her voice, so that Grace could not hear. “Do you really think Rittenhouse will be content to keep her out of the action for just one day?” She thought of Alice, standing defiant in yet another prison cell, even after everything else she’d suffered in such places. A lump rose in her throat. “And now they have her stuck-- can’t run, can’t hide...”

What had begun as a pretext for freeing herself of Wyatt for a while now became a solid, heavy, weight in her heart of a reason. Clearly, Rittenhouse did not like Alice Paul, and Lucy knew all too well that they had exactly zero scruples when it came to eliminating whatever they did not like.

To his credit, Wyatt clearly understood the risk. And for everything else that he could be, he was dutiful. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful, okay?”

This, she did not have to deal with just now, as Grace’s impatient voice rang out through the precinct.

“Well?! We don’t have all day. You said it yourself.”

“Coming!” Lucy hurried away.

Wyatt watched them both go, and then for a moment he was alone in the room. The officer was not at his desk, despite his supposed instructions not to allow Alice any visitors. And in this time, there were no security cameras, or anything. It would be too easy to get through to that holding cell (and back out again too if you kept quiet enough), as Wyatt now did.

“You’re back.” Alice had been looking out the window, but now turned around, presumably when she’d heard the door open. “But where’s Grace?”

“Investigating at the hotel,” he replied.

“Why are you here?”

“Just in case.”

She was unimpressed by that. “I can take care of myself. I always have. I don’t need a man-- one I don’t even know-- to look after me.”

“I don’t doubt it, ma’am.” The word slipped out instinctively, and its significance hit him like a sucker punch a second later. Even Alice’s slight resemblance to Lucy became too much to handle, and for a moment he was struck dumb. But he pulled himself together, to continue: “But it’s no trouble. Pretend I’m not even here.”

That arrangement seemed to suit her, and she sat down on the cot. She clasped her hands in her lap, and closed her eyes. Her lips moved silently; maybe she was rehearsing the speech she was meant to give that afternoon. She definitely did not seem to be at all cowed by her current predicament.

Wyatt just stood there, awkwardly, for what felt like a very long time. But slowly, an unexpectedly peaceful silence fell over the room. And he realized that this was the nearest he’d gotten to a moment alone, ever since Jessica’s return. Either she was with him, or Rufus, or Agent Christopher, or Jiya, or Mason, or Flynn-- too many people living in that damn bunker! And all the while, the one person he _did_ want to see had made herself entirely unavailable.

The problem was, they hadn’t just been a one-night stand, something easy to move past. In the past year, she had become his best friend. After every other insane thing that had happened to them since Mason Industries came calling, they’d had each other, to talk it through. And now, with this most insane thing, when he most needed his best friend, she wasn’t there.

But she _would_ talk to Flynn. Flynn! After everything that guy had done, Wyatt had no idea how Lucy could even begin to trust him.

He sighed, heavily enough apparently to attract Alice’s attention. She rose, and came to stand at the bars, staring at him curiously.

“Are you in favor of the women’s vote?”

“Of course.”

She raised her eyebrows. “It’s hardly a matter of course, around here. You’re from out west, perhaps.”

“Uh... yes, actually.” That was an easier explanation, for sure, although he did not know how or why she had guessed it. He would have to ask Lucy, later.

“So how do you know Grace?”

“We don’t, not really. Lucy read about her-- uh, in the papers. Thought she could help with your case. Do you know her?”

“Not well.” Alice shrugged, a little. “She is not very helpful to the cause. It’s too bad. She seems clever, otherwise.” A beat, and then, “Your Lucy-- is she the one who was here before?”

He nodded.

“ _She_ seems passionate. We could use her, in our fight.”

If only Lucy could have heard that! There was pretty much nothing better than seeing her meet her historical idols-- except for the way they always loved her too. “She’s the best,” he agreed, unable to suppress a smile.

Alice noticed, too, the tenderness in his voice. “She’s your wife, I suppose?”

“No, uh-- she’s my friend.”

Alice nodded, and there was a strange, wistful sort of look in her eyes. _Your Lucy_ , she had said. And again, Wyatt wished his Lucy were here to explain why that might be.

“We’ll be at the march this afternoon,” he said, steering the conversation back toward safer ground. “And you will be too. I promise.”

“I hope so. I think we really might be close, at last.”

Just then, the door swung open. It was not the officer who appeared, or even Lucy and Grace. It was a woman, wearing a suffragist sash. Alice recognized her.

“Charlotte, you didn’t need to come,” she said briskly. “I’m alright. Will everyone be ready this afternoon?”

“Certainly,” Charlotte replied, but her tone rang insincere. Her expression was sour as she looked from Alice to Wyatt, and his military instincts were immediately on alert. He was mindful of why Lucy had asked him to stay-- and this Charlotte’s was _not_ the behavior of someone coming to visit a friend, and now she was reaching into her handbag. And so he felt for his gun, as he edged in front of Alice.

Charlotte clearly noticed, and her expression now turned thunderous. “Should’ve known one of you might be here,” she sneered, all pretense dropped. “If only it were Lucy. Kill two birds with one stone!”

“What on earth...?” Alice sounded utterly bewildered, and who could blame her? She did not move from behind him.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Paul, I’ve got you,” Wyatt said over his shoulder, but even as he said it, he did not feel so certain. If he shot the sleeper, which is what this lady clearly was, the noise would get the cops’ attention, and Alice did not need _another_ murder charge. Neither did he. But what else--

But then, suddenly, the sleeper solved the problem for him. She had taken a syringe out of her handbag, and now she lunged toward Alice. Her planning for this moment had, obviously, not factored in the presence of a trained soldier, who was able to catch her wrist, and pin her arms behind her back.

Wyatt took away the syringe, and her handbag too, just in case. He tossed both to the floor. Then there was nothing else to do but hold her still.

What are you _doing_?” Alice cried out.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but--”

“Not _you_! Charlotte-- we have known each other for four years-- we picketed together!”

Wyatt did not give the sleeper any chance to answer. “There’s some people who _really_ don’t want women to vote. Charlotte here appears to believe that’ll work out well for her.”

“What do you think they’ll do to you,” Charlotte said now, “if I scream, and they catch you manhandling a lady--”

This sleeper was like General Custer, Wyatt thought; he was grateful for it. He’d been stupid not to gag her sooner, but now he did.

“Are you alright, Ms. Paul?” he asked, twisting around to check on her visually too. She looked pale, but all things considered, was remarkably composed.

“Do you know Charlotte too?” she asked.

“It’s... really hard to explain,” he evaded.

“Try me. I think I deserve to understand, if possible--”

Wyatt was saved from having to explain Rittenhouse, and _time travel_ , for God’s sake, when the door opened once more. This time it was Lucy, Grace, and the police officer. They froze in the doorway, entirely unprepared for the scene which greeted them.

“I can explain,” Wyatt began, in the brief silence.

Lucy recovered herself first. “So can we! Grace figured out that someone paid off the bellboy to lie-- he never actually saw Alice! And we have a note, a lead on the sleeper-- but I guess we don’t need it anymore?”

“Nope.” Wyatt shook his head. “Officer, this here’s your assassin. Ms. Paul is innocent, like she says.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the officer replied.

“What happened?” This was Grace, finally. She still looked shocked.

Wyatt began. “She snuck in, like I did. I think she was planning on poisoning Ms. Paul-- I took a syringe from her, which you’ll find over there.”

The officer collected it, and the handbag, which he opened to find a small silver pistol. “I’ll be damned,” he said again, quieter. “You suffragettes--”

“Suffrag _ists_ ,” Alice interjected.

“--better be more careful!”

At that, the three women shared a knowing glance. Lucy sighed, at the thought that if Alice and Grace traveled _forward_ a hundred years, they would find a culture still dismayingly similar to their own.

“Can we go now?” Wyatt tried.

“Just a moment.” Grace held the note out to Alice. “Can you identify this handwriting?”

“It’s Charlotte’s,” Alice confirmed.

The officer nodded, and finally unlocked the holding cell. “Maybe I’ll see you again soon, Miss Paul,” he said, as she passed by. She did not dignify the comment with a response.

In fact, nobody spoke until they were outside the precinct. It had been a whirlwind morning, which had left them each with a great deal to think about, whether political or personal or both.

On the sidewalk, Alice turned to Wyatt. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” he returned easily. “We’re big fans of yours. Aren’t we?” He directed that last to Lucy, who nodded vigorously.

“You’ve been so brave, all these years,” she said. She and Alice fell into step, a little ways behind Wyatt and Grace. He glanced back, questioning, and she nodded. He seemed to understand that she wanted a little space.

“We’re nearly there,” she went on, “and thanks to you. It’s really such an honor to meet you.” She chuckled to herself, as a connection occurred to her. And even though it was fifty years too soon for the reference, she added, “Well done, sister suffrag-- suffragist.”

“When the cause is as vital as this one, no sacrifice could be too large,” Alice replied gravely.

“Right.” Lucy nodded, and took a deep breath. “Just-- don’t sacrifice your conscience, okay? You should stick up for Ida Wells-Barnett, and Mary Terrell. I think they are going to need our support, in these coming years, and theirs _is_ part of the woman’s cause.”

Alice said nothing.

“I understand the politics you're dealing with, I do. But those Southern women who don’t agree-- they are on the wrong side of history.”

“As far as you know, anyway.”

“Yes.” Lucy, of course, knew farther than she could let on. She wished she could explain. But she would just have to trust in Alice’s good sense. “It’s what Lucretia Mott would do. I know Quakers believe in equality.”

Alice nodded. “There is that of God in everyone, as Rufus Jones says.”

It would never have been easy to scold one’s historical heroine, particularly in such a short time as they had together. But it had to be said; she couldn’t not try, to steer the cause in the right direction.

“Right,” Lucy agreed. “I know we just met, but please trust me on this.”

“Your friend saved my life; after that I suppose I must trust you.”

Lucy smiled, hopeful, and linked arms with Alice, who allowed it with a small smile of her own. “Now let’s get you to that march!”

A little while later, she stood with Grace and Wyatt, and Rufus and Flynn, and they all watched as Alice fought through the crowd of police and marchers, to make her voice heard above the din. Their purpose today had felt weightier than almost any other mission they’d been on, other than 1865, and it was really something else to see the suffragists’ bravery in person.

"Mr President!” Alice shouted. “I want to address those of you who think that women will not, cannot, and should not succeed. We will _not_ be silenced, and we will _not_ be ignored! It was we the people, not we the white male citizens-- but _we the whole people_ who formed this Union. The time has come to give women the right to vote!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd intended to include a scene at the end with Wyatt and Lucy, as happened in the show, in which our historian explains the things he'd been wondering about. But then, it felt right to end with Alice's speech. 
> 
> What Lucy would have said: 16 states, mostly western, granted women the right to vote prior to the 19th Amendment being passed in 1920. The first was Colorado, in 1893. Well, technically, unmarried women in New Jersey had the vote from 1776, but then in 1807, the NJ constitution was amended to specify white men. Montana, in 1916, became the first state to elect a woman to Congress: Jeannette Rankin, who said, "If I am remembered for no other act, I want to be remembered as the only woman who ever voted to give women the right to vote."
> 
> Also, Alice Paul's Lucy was Lucy Burns, with whom she co-founded the National Woman's Party. They met at a police station in London, after having been arrested protesting with British suffragists. There's no evidence that they were anything more than close friends-- but they *were* close, and neither of them ever married. So you never know.
> 
> P.S. I've made Lucy say something like what *I* would like to say to Alice, had I ever the chance. Have thought about it a lot over the years.


End file.
